


A Howly Jolly Christmas

by Springsteen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springsteen/pseuds/Springsteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is your overcaffeinated doe-eyed elf helper” probably isn’t the kind of thing you should say to the guy dressed up as Santa in the middle of the mall. A declaration of lust directed at the guy in a ridiculous elf costume surrounded by a group of kids probably isn’t a good idea, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Howly Jolly Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in probably five years. All I really wanted was to write about Stiles as an elf, and then I ended up with 5000 words of super fluff.  
> Feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](http://springsteen.tubmrl.com).

After spending a few years of his life in New York, Derek had learned to tolerate crowds, the press of too many people in too small a space, but he still did his best to stay as far away from Beacon Hills’ shopping mall around the holidays as he possibly could. He’d been planning on spending a quiet holiday in his new apartment, where he still wasn’t entirely comfortable--even after all these years, he felt that he had abandoned his family every time he walked away from the remains of their home. After listening to his pack complain for weeks on end, Derek had announced that he had, in fact, rented an apartment and was not planning on living in his hunter-invaded, burnt-out old house in the “middle of the creepy-ass freezing woods,” as Isaac had frequently complained. He still kept an eye on his old house, returning there frequently and wishing he had the time to devote to restore the house, instead of keeping an eye on his pack and watching out for the alphas. Derek was unable to give up all the memories of his childhood, and the crushing guilt made him miss the feeling of being surrounded by ghosts, reminded of what he had caused. Shortly after moving in, he gave keys to Erica, Isaac and Boyd so that he wouldn’t have to worry about letting them in every time they needed somewhere to stay, thankful to be able to leave the old railway station on the edge of town.  
  
Erica ruined his plan for a quiet holiday when she walked through the front door. “Isaac and Boyd are almost as miserable as you always seem to be,” she’d announced as soon as Derek turned to face her. Flicking her long hair over her shoulder, she walked through his apartment and picked up his jacket off of the back of the couch to hold up to Derek. “We’re decorating this place for Christmas, and you’re going to help.”  
  
Derek raised his eyebrows. “How do you know I wasn’t planning on decorating?” His three betas had been spending more and more time at Derek’s place, leaving things like clothes and school books strewn throughout the apartment. After losing everyone, he liked having people around--the chatter and laughter of their conversation while they attempted homework, Erica insisting on letting the radio play constantly, Boyd always cooking for everyone, sometimes teaching them recipes he’d known his whole life--it helped Derek relax and, little by little, let go of the guilt and anger he had held onto for so long. He had, in fact, been planning on buying some new decorations. His mother had insisted that Thanksgiving needed its proper celebration and the Christmas season didn’t start until December, and he hadn’t been able to let go of that idea.  
  
“It’s after Thanksgiving and you haven’t even started. Most stores start playing ‘Jingle Bells’ the day after Halloween.” Erica was standing in the doorway once again, Derek’s keys in one hand and jacket in the other. “Come on, you look like you could use some Christmas cheer. I’m not gonna force you to listen to Mariah Carey for hours on end, just get a tree and some tinsel.”  
  
“I am never listening to Mariah Carey Christmas songs,” he said, taking his jacket and keys and locking the door behind Erica. “And I’m not paying for a tree.”  
  
Erica had already texted Boyd and Isaac about her plan, so it was only an hour later when the three of them followed Derek through the woods. He carried axe slung over his shoulder as they walked through the snow-dusted trees until they’d found one they could all live with to stand in their living room. Derek cut it down but let Boyd and Isaac haul it back through the woods. Derek only paused for a second before pulling a length of rope from his trunk and tying the tree to the roof of his car. He noticed Isaac and Erica exchange brief surprised looks that Derek would expose his car to such an indignity, but he ignored them as he finished tying the knots and got into the car. By the time they’d gotten back to his apartment, he realized he didn’t have a tree stand, so the tree was leaning against the wall in a corner, looking like a miserable excuse for holiday decorations. Boyd inhaled deeply with a smile on his face, as though just the smell of fresh pine needles had brightened his mood.  
  
“I don’t have anything to decorate the tree with,” Derek admitted. Isaac and Boyd shrugged, but Erica smiled wickedly.  
  
“Does this mean we’re going shopping?” she asked.  
  
“Unless you want to stare at that sad excuse of a Christmas tree in the corner for the next month,” Derek had replied. So that was how Derek Hale found himself standing in the middle of the Beacon Hills shopping center, surrounded by too many other people shopping for presents and decorations. He lead his pack from store to store, letting the three of them help to pick out ornaments, strings of lights, and stockings for all four of them. They were almost done, arms full of bags stuffed with tinsel and ornaments as they walked through the center of the mall. Suddenly Isaac stopped walking, causing a group of shoppers to push past them, muttering and glaring.  
  
“Is that...?” Isaac was staring at the display they’d set up where Santa was sitting, taking pictures with kids and listening to their Christmas wishes.  
  
“No way, there’s no way,” Erica said, staring in the same direction.  
  
“It is. That can’t be anybody else,” Boyd said, shaking his head.  
  
“That’s hilarious.”  
  
“He’s never living this down.”  
  
Derek followed their gaze, eyes flickering between families and children waiting in line to meet “Santa” and watching the people dressed up as elves who were helping to keep the place organized. For a few seconds he didn’t realize what had caught their attention, until he noticed the six-foot tall elf dressed in bright green tights with a red shirt wearing a ridiculous red and green striped hat complete with pointy ears and a bell. He chattered away to the kids at the front of the line, gesturing wildly enough that Derek was surprised he hadn’t noticed him earlier.  
  
“Come on, I’ve gotta get a picture of this.” Erica pushed her way through the crowd of shoppers until she was at the end of the line of families, waiting for their children to get their pictures taken with Santa. Stiles was ushering kids from the front of the line to the chair where Santa was sitting, keeping the line organized and attempting to maintain some kind of order. “Priceless,” Erica said as she snapped a picture with her phone.  
  
“I’m not really sure you could blackmail him with that,” Derek said, watching Stiles walk back and forth. He managed to move his limbs an excessive amount while only taking a few steps, and Derek hated that it fascinated him.  
  
“Oh, I know,” she said. “I just need to save this so that I’ll always have something to cheer me up, if I ever need something to laugh at.” The line moved forward and Stiles glanced up, noticing them standing at the back. His brown eyes widened and his smile faltered, only for a second, before he shifted his gaze to the kids standing in front of him.  
  
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Derek said, walking through the crowd that seemed to part in front of him. Everyone joked about his constant scowl, but it worked wonders when he was trying to avoid people, and he managed to get his pack through the rest of their Christmas shopping in no time.  
  
Forgetting about Stiles’ ass in his stupid green tights wasn’t so easy.

* * * * *

The second time Derek ended up at the shopping center could have been called a coincidence for one of two reasons. The first reason was that he had followed Jackson, still unstable because he was so newly turned and not fully in control of his powers, and he was stubbornly unwilling to join Derek’s pack even though they both knew that was the best option.  
  
Jackson had disappeared into several stores in a very short time, obviously trying to get rid of Derek without confronting him. Unsure of what to say to Jackson to convince him to join his pack, Derek had given up for the day and wandered off in the direction of the food court. He would try again soon--as soon as he had something else to say that he hadn’t tried before, that he knew would convince Jackson to change his mind.  
  
The second reason for this coincidence was that Derek was secretly addicted to the peppermint mochas that the coffee shop sold, which would explain why he was sitting at a small table across from “Santa’s Workshop” in the center of the mall, trying to enjoy his coffee and pretend he had absolutely no idea that Stiles was working, running around in bright green tights. Again. Stiles had no idea that Derek was there, so it was easy for him to watch from a distance and try not to let the incessant Christmas music drive him completely insane.

* * * * *

The third time Derek found himself at Beacon Hills’ shopping center, he’s just finished shopping for presents for his pack, who were busy planning a Christmas party for the end of the month. Boyd had asked tentatively, as though Derek would be annoyed rather than pleased. They were finally finding a place in each other’s lives that didn’t feel awkward or imposing, and Derek was thankful that things were settling down after a few full moons together.  
  
He was eating a burger, staring blankly at the shifting crowd around him when Stiles threw himself into the chair across from Derek, bells on his costume jingling brightly. “What do you want?” Stiles demanded, glaring at Derek across the small table. Derek glanced up at him but said nothing. “This is the third time you’re here in the past few weeks--three’s a pattern, you know--and it’s really disturbing, the way you’re always glaring like that, sometimes in my direction, unless I’m just projecting but I don’t think that I am.” Stiles paused and stole a french fry from the pile in front of Derek, hands darting quickly as though Derek wouldn’t notice. “Everything’s been quiet lately. Scott’s been good.” He looked up at Derek, a small smile on his face. “He doesn’t need your help--he’s got me. And we’re not helping you with any more crazy supernatural battles. Or I’m not, anyway.” He took a handful of fries this time and stuffed them into his mouth.  
  
“Quit stealing my food and get back to work, Buddy,” Derek said.  
  
Stiles glared at him, his eyes slowly widening. The bell on his hat jingled when he shook his head slightly. “Was that--did you just--you’ve seen Elf?”  
“I wasn’t raised by actual wolves,” he responded, a smile edging its way across his lips.  
  
“I shudder to think of what your people skills would be like if you were.”  
  
“Still better than yours.”  
  
Stiles laughed, his whole body shaking with it and causing the bells on his costume to jingle again. “You know, you threaten people with the claws and the teeth and the snarling, but it’s your wit that they should really be afraid of.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, finishing off his fries before Stiles could steal any more them. “We’re having a party at my apartment the Saturday before Christmas,” Derek announced before he thought too much about inviting him. “If you wanted to come--Scott, too, and--”  
  
“A Christmas party?” Stiles echoed. “Wait, you’re inviting Scott and I to your apartment? With the rest of your pack--including Erica, who knocked me out with a piece of my own car, and Isaac, who would have ripped me to shreds that first full moon, and Boyd, who hasn’t done anything to me specifically yet--”  
  
“Well I was only trying to be polite and have everyone get together for the holiday, but if you’re going to be rude then forget it.”  
  
“Everybody?” Stiles repeated.  
  
Derek rolled his eyes. “Do you ever listen to anything I say?” Stiles shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his hands before dropping them back to the table. “You can invite Scott and Allison, and Jackson and Lydia too, if you want.”  
  
Stiles’ eyes lit up as he realized that Derek was being serious, that he’s really throwing a Christmas party and inviting, apparently, every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. “I should warn you that if you play Christmas music, Scott thinks he can sing like Michael Bublé, man, that’s always hilarious and only slightly painful. Sometimes. And, hey, you’re over twenty-one--”  
  
Derek suppressed a sigh, though not easily. “Don’t you have some children to lie to? Or do you tell them all that Santa doesn’t actually exist?”  
  
“Nah, scaring kids is your job. Scaring everyone is your job.” Stiles got to his feet, a broad grin on his face. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Hope you like cookies!”  
  
When he was younger, Derek’s smart-ass comments tended to get him in trouble, despite his dad’s continued insistence that he keep his head down and stay out of trouble as much as he could. He had never liked to pass up the opportunity for a good sarcastic one-liner, and as Derek listened to the bells on Stiles’ costume jingle as he walks away, he said, “Nice tights, Peter Pan.”  
  
Stiles turned around, his face flushed red. “Shut up, Grumpy Claws.” He took a few more steps away before calling over his shoulder, “Have a howly, jolly Christmas!”  
  
“That doesn’t rhyme,” Derek said. Stiles stopped a few feet away, in the middle of the food court. Busy shoppers pushed around him, but he didn’t seem to notice.  
  
“Well, you wouldn’t want it to be a howly, jowly Christmas, would you, Mr. Scowly?”  
  
Derek laughed, causing an expression of surprise to flicker across Stiles’ face before an enormous grin broke out. “Go to work, Stiles,” Derek said, smiling back. Stiles swept his striped hat off his head and bowed mockingly to Derek before he turned and disappearing into the crowd.

* * * * *

“Where have you been all afternoon?” Erica asked, looking at Derek when he walked into his apartment later that afternoon. She was sitting between Boyd and Isaac on his couch, the three of them watching _A Christmas Story_ while Boyd made complicated paper snowflakes and left little bits of paper all over the floor.  
  
“I invited Stiles and Scott to our Christmas party,” he said, ignoring her first question completely as he tossed his jacket on the back of the couch and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs.  
  
“You did _what_?” She turned around, leaning over the back of the couch to gape at Derek.  
  
“And Jackson, though we’ll see if he actually shows up.” He hoped that Stiles would manage to convince Jackson to come to the Christmas party. It probably wouldn’t be easy for him, but it would be considerably easier for Derek to convince him to join the pack if their relationship had more friendship in it than animosity.  
  
“Right, well, why don’t you just invite the Argents while you’re at it? Nothing says ‘Christmas cheer’ like shotguns and tasers.”  
  
Derek raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at the tv, where Ralphie had just announced, yet again, that he wanted a Red Ryder carbine-action two-hundred-shot range model air rifle. “Of course I didn’t invite the Argents. They’ll shoot your eye out.” Erica rolled her eyes and turned back to the tv. Derek didn’t tell them that he had invited one Argent, though the only real reason that he’d invited Allison was so that Scott would come. She still made Derek feel uneasy, but she made Scott happy and Derek had given up trying to convince them to split up. Besides, her father actually lived by the code--he hadn’t bothered Derek’s pack for months.  
  
For the past several years, the holidays had always made him miss his family, and without Laura this year was going to be brutal. But he didn’t tell his pack that he honestly was looking forward to their Christmas party--that he missed having a house full of people, and even if none of them got along for the rest of the year, having all of them around at Christmas would make Derek happier than he could remember being in a long time. 

* * * * *

Derek walked into his apartment on Saturday evening and barely recognized the place. The paper snowflakes that Boyd had spent the entire week making were hung from the ceiling, the whole room glowing with yards of Christmas lights. Someone in his pack had figured out how to work Derek’s unnecessarily complicated stereo, which was now playing up-tempo Christmas songs. The tree that they had picked out a few weeks earlier stood at the edge of the room where it had been since they’d brought it home, but now it was covered in tinsel and ornaments, with a few small presents tucked underneath. Derek smiled and thought that his mom would have loved this--he and Laura had never really had the time or the means to decorate for the holidays, and he never realized how much he had missed it.  
  
“Quit standing there admiring our work and get in here,” Erica yelled from the kitchen. Derek walked slowly through his apartment, unsure of what she was planning--when he had asked that morning, their plan had been to order pizzas, as none of them particularly wanted to cook for the guests Derek had invited. As soon as he walked through the door, Erica pounced, jamming something itchy onto Derek’s head.  
  
“Gotcha!” she’d announced, victorious. “Now we can have a holiday party.” Derek lifted his hand to his head and felt what was unmistakably a Santa hat. He noticed now that Erica was wearing a truly horrendous sweater, snugly fitted and covered in what were probably reindeer, if you squinted at it in the dark. “We figured you probably wouldn’t want to wear a sweater, but you should be festive, anyway.”  
  
“How thoughtful,” he replied. “Did you manage to get Isaac and Boyd to wear sweaters, too? Or are they wearing reindeer antlers and red noses?”  
  
“There’s no way I’d wear anything that humiliating,” Isaac said. He was also wearing a sweater--Erica must have purposely looked for the most ridiculous sweaters in existence, because the one Isaac wore had a penguin on ice skates wearing a santa hat. “What time is Scott getting here?”  
  
A few seconds later, the buzzer sounded through Derek’s apartment, answering that question. After he buzzed them in, Derek could hear five sets of footsteps stomping up three flights of stairs, all the way until one of them knocked on the door loudly before throwing it open. Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia and Stiles stood in the open doorway, looking awkwardly around the apartment.  
  
“Aw, man, I love this song,” Scott muttered, tapping his fingers against his leg to the rhythm of the music.  
  
“Do not sing along,” Stiles muttered in response. “Sing along and I will end you.”  
  
“But--”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Come on, everyone loves this song.”  
  
“Yes, and that’s exactly why you should not sing along.”  
  
“Stop arguing and shut the door,” Derek said as he walked out of the kitchen, noticing that Scott and Allison wore matching red and green striped sweaters, which was probably worse than anything horrible and holiday-themed. Lydia had pinned a shiny green bow in her hair and was holding hands with Jackson, who was looking around the apartment skeptically.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” Stiles said brightly, stepping forward holding a plate. “I brought cookies.” Derek was too distracted by Stiles’ sweatshirt, where there was a wolf wearing a Santa hat and the words “Merry Christmas” printed across his chest.  
  
“Where did you get that?” Derek asked flatly.  
  
Stiles glanced down at his chest, shrugged, and said, “Thrift store.” He grinned. “Like it?”  
  
“Wow, Stiles, you win best dressed,” Erica said, taking the plate from him and disappearing back into the kitchen. “Thanks for the cookies!”  
  
A few minutes later, Boyd walked through the awkward group still congregated around the doorway, carrying a stack of pizza boxes. “Hey, everybody,” he said. With two words, he managed to break the tension that had been filling the room--either that, or everyone realized it was pretty difficult to glare at people while eating pizza straight out of the box, sitting next to each other on the floor. Erica and Lydia were getting along scarily well, and Derek had a feeling that if they managed to completely get past their fighting in the past, the two would be capable of anything they set their minds to.  
  
Stiles leaned past Derek, their shoulders brushing as he reached for another (his fifth) piece of pizza. “Do you get the feeling that Lydia and Erica are about to become the world’s greatest evil masterminds?”  
  
Derek snorted but said nothing, noticing the smirk that crossed Stiles’ face, different from his bright grin, before Stiles took a huge bite out of the pizza, a string of melted cheese hanging from his lips. Derek watched as Stiles chased it with his tongue, a quick flicker of his eyes that he was almost positive went unnoticed. “Really, though,” Stiles continued. “I think if they wanted to they could take over the state of California and turn it into their empire, and from there they could--”  
  
Stiles broke off as everyone in the room realized what song was currently playing over the stereo. Derek turned to his pack and saw Boyd shrug. “I thought it’d be funny,” he said.  
  
Scott, Stiles and Isaac burst out in uncontrollable laughter as dogs continued to bark to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” The others joined in, until everyone in the room was laughing, Scott wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.  
  
“You guys aren’t so bad,” Stiles announced. “When you’re not trying to kill us or anything, you’re pretty cool.”  
  
“Thanks,” Isaac replied. “You’re not so bad yourselves, when you’re not trying to kill us, either.”  
  
At some point later in the night, someone turned off the music and turned on the tv, which was playing nothing but Christmas movies. Boyd had gone home and Jackson had left with Lydia, though the fact that he had stayed for longer than five minutes gave Derek hope. Scott, Allison, Isaac, and Erica were squashed on the couch watching animated Christmas movies. Stiles was stretched out on the loveseat, head on one end and feet thrown over the other, fast asleep with his mouth hanging open. The ridiculous elf hat had slipped off his head and onto the floor, and Derek spent far more of the movie than he’d care to admit trying to decide whether or not to throw a blanket over him, sprawled and sleeping. Instead he sat on the floor, back leaning against Erica’s legs, and glanced at Stiles every time there was a commercial break.  
  
Once the movie ended, Derek stood and stretched. Scott got to his feet and looked over at Derek. “Thanks for...this,” he said, shrugging as he tried to articulate his thoughts. “It was nice. I’m still not going to be a part of your pack, but...” He glanced at Allison, then at Erica and Isaac, before turning to look at Derek again. “We shouldn’t be fighting all the time, either.”  
  
Derek nodded. “No, we shouldn’t.” Isaac and Erica watched him from behind Scott, tense. “But I think you should still consider being one pack.”  
  
“I will,” Scott replied. They stared at each other for a moment before Scott turned away, crossing the room to shake Stiles’ shoulder. He jerked awake, arms spiralling forward as he sat up.  
  
“What did I miss?” he asked, causing Scott to smile.  
  
“The movie’s over, dude. Ready to go?”  
  
“Yep.” Stiles stood and stretched his arms above his head, pulling his stupid sweatshirt up a few inches, revealing a strip of pale skin and dark hair. “Have a very were-y Christmas,” he called, grinning, as he lead Scott and Allison out of the apartment that became quieter and felt emptier, though he could feel Erica and Isaac, still on the couch and talking quietly. It was calmer, but Derek missed the contained chaos of so many people--the talking and laughter of people and wolves in the small room, the contented feeling that he wasn’t completely alone.

* * * * *

The next morning, Derek was woken up far too early by a very loud buzzing sound. He stumbled into the hallway and swatted at the buzzer, causing the noise to stop. A few moments later, someone was pounding on the door. Frowning at the noise first thing in the morning, he opened the front door and Stiles stumbled inside, dressed in his elf costume.  
  
“I left my hat here yesterday,” he said. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn it, if I can’t find it Joan is going to murder me, she already has it out for me, she makes Chris Argent look like a kitten, I swear to God.”  
  
Barely awake, Derek watched as Stiles crashed around his apartment, yanking up cushions and crawling across the floor, a completely distracting sight that Derek wasn’t prepared to handle. He crossed into the kitchen and started to make coffee, deciding that he needed to be caffeinated before he could do anything else.  
  
“Have you seen it?” Stiles followed him into the kitchen, nearly cornering him against the counters. “It’s tall and striped red and green with really dumb-”  
  
“I know,” Derek cut him off. “I saw you wearing it yesterday, haven’t seen it since.”  
  
“ _Damn_ it,” Stiles sighed and turned, crossing back towards the living room, almost falling on his face when he tripped, probably over his own feet. Derek took a step forward and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ arm, stopping him from hitting the floor. Stiles turned to face him and glanced down at where Derek’s fingers were still wrapped tightly around his arm, just above his elbow.  
  
“Calm down,” Derek said. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” Stiles’ eyes flicked from Derek’s hand around his arm to Derek’s eyes and back again, muscles tensed beneath his fingers. He lets go several seconds later than he should have, causing Stiles to stare at him, several emotions flashing across his face too quickly for Derek to read. Without warning, Stiles sprang forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, quick and determined, pulling away just as quickly.  
  
“Aw, shit,” Stiles breathed when Derek did nothing but stare unblinkingly at him, too surprised to react. “I’m just gonna go, then, and we can call that a moment of temporary insanity and pretend that never happened.” He turned and had taken a few steps towards the door by the time Derek realized Stiles was leaving. He grabbed his wrist, pulled him back, and kissed Stiles again, causing him to grin against Derek’s lips and push him backwards with strong, insistent hands on his shoulders. Stumbling backwards, Derek dragged Stiles with him, still kissing insistently, until both of them fell over onto the small couch where Stiles had fallen asleep the night before.  
  
Stiles laughed against Derek’s lips as he knelt over him on the couch, running long, slim fingers down Derek’s chest to pull up the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it over his head without breaking their kiss. Derek yanked the shirt off and tossed it, moaning when Stiles scraped blunt nails across his stomach and up his chest, licking into Stiles’ mouth. Derek’s hands trailed down Stiles’ back, fingers splayed across his ass so that Stiles rocked his hips forward, pressing their bodies closer. Derek pulled Stiles’ lower lip between his teeth and watched his eyes flutter closed, felt the twitches in the muscles of Stiles’ thighs that bracketed his own.  
  
“This is really hideous,” Derek mumbled as he hooked his fingers underneath Stiles’ bright red shirt and pulling it up, quietly laughing as Stiles wriggled his arms out of the sleeves. Derek pressed biting kisses down Stiles’ neck, Stiles grinding his hips into Derek’s and running his fingers through Derek’s hair, pulling until Derek’s kisses stuttered and he arched up into Stiles’ hands. Derek tried to flip them over but quickly discovered the couch was much too narrow, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. Stiles let out a gasp which quickly turned into a laugh, stretching across the floor and spreading his legs so that Derek could settle between them. He leaned down to kiss Stiles again and again, letting Stiles slide his tongue into his mouth to trace across his teeth, his tongue. Derek pulled away, his hands tracing down the marks he’d made on Stiles’ neck and chest, watching the muscles in his stomach twitch under his fingers until he reached the waistband of Stiles’ stupidly tight green pants.  
  
“Oh my god,” Stiles said, eyes widening as he sat up so quickly he almost hit Derek in the forehead. “Oh my god I have to work at nine I’m gonna be so late I still don’t know where the fuck my hat is.” He scrambled out from under Derek, who was kneeling on the floor, half-dressed and still not quite sure what had just happened.  
  
“Look, I’m really sorry that I have to leave.” Stiles was kneeling in front of Derek again, pulling his shirt back over his head. “Shit, I’d better not have to explain how elves get hickeys,” he muttered to himself as he fastened his belt, gaze dragging up Derek’s chest before meeting his eyes again. “But, um, that was totally awesome and I hope it wasn’t a one-off thing and I’d really like it if this could happen again sometime. And more things. More things would be good, too.” Derek nodded jerkily, the best he could manage--he hadn’t even had coffee yet this morning, Stiles really shouldn’t blame him for not being able to think clearly. Stiles got to his feet with a sigh, stumbling across Derek’s apartment to the door.  
  
“Wait,” Derek said, getting to his feet and crossing to meet Stiles. He pulled the striped elf hat onto Stiles’ head, having found it pushed half-under the couch a few minutes earlier. Derek kissed him softly, much sweeter than their filthy kisses on the floor. “I’ll see you later, Stiles,” he said with a smile.  
  
Stiles grinned widely at him and walked slowly to the door. Turning to Derek, he said, “You should have a party for New Year’s Eve, too.”  
  
“We’ll see,” he replied, smiling as he walked to Stiles, who leaned in the open doorway. “Go to work, Stiles.” He kissed him once more before shutting the door, laughing when he heard Stiles mutter excitedly to himself as he walked down the hall. A few minutes later, Derek sat at his table with a steaming cup of coffee, wondering if his pack had any other plans for New Year’s Eve, thinking that if he decided to have a party, no one would have to know it had been Stiles’ idea first. Watching the snow falling softly outside his window, Derek had a feeling this Christmas would be the best one he’d had in a long time.


End file.
